Carry On
by EmeraldFire90
Summary: Two Weasley brothers are dead, one is MIA. Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and George must band together to cope and move on. But what if the MIA brother returns after a very long absence, and Hermione and George are seemingly anything but 'just friends? Hermione's POV.
1. Chapter 1

_**DISCLAIMER: JK Rowling is the great and powerful talent; I am merely a worshipping peasant.**_

_**PLEASE READ BEFORE ****YOU**** CONTINUE:**__** I've done my fair share of writing fanfiction (all of which have failed me miserably) because I had no idea how to continue with the writing. My lack of motivation and serious time constraints stem from that. This story, however, I've actually already written the first four (semi-lengthy) chapters and the eighth chapter. I have no idea where this story will take me, nor how long my motivation will keep going but I still have lots of ideas for it and I've never been this excited about a story-line. Ever. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that I've kept pretty much the entire story (besides the George/Hermione stuff and the fact that Percy is dead) VERY canon. I don't have the ending written yet but I'm hoping to get up 15 or 16 chapters.**_

_**Let's roll.**__**  
**_

I sit on the edge of the bed, having just woken in a cold sweat and my heart pounding yet again. My now cold feet rested gingerly on the freezing floor; my hands, palm down, on the bed at my sides. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing myself not to remember, but like the day before and the day before that, the tears come, warm and invading, sliding down my pained face. I had one night with him, one night where we finally figured everything out and the love making. My god, the love making…

I sob even harder remembering his gentle touches across my tanned skin. Even though we had been in a dark and dank tent for nearly a year, awaiting the arrival of our impending doom, it was so deliciously comforting to know something as simple as the human touch could bring you back to life. And I was fortunate enough to have that even just once.

The saying, '_You never know what you have until it's gone_,' is so disgustingly true, I slide down to my knees, holding my stomach, no longer able to take it.

It's been one month, six days, three hours, and forty-two minutes since the love of my life was ripped away from me forever; thirty-four days since his brothers had their funerals; twenty-nine days since my love was declared missing in action as his body was never recovered; and twenty-one days since his memorial was put up in the garden of the Burrow.

It hardly seems real and I beg Merlin everyday to release me from this pain. How long it will last, I have no idea. I literally don't think I've ever felt this hopeless in my life; never mind the answers to an exam I simply could not remember. Nor my parents who are safely tucked away in Australia somewhere and I may never find them again. At least they'll be happy. At least they'll never know the mess they're missing. Sometimes, of course, I do wish my mum was with me, hugging the pain away. Keeping me from harming myself…

I start coughing up the phlegm that's threatening to choke me to death but think, '_Why bother? It's not like I have anything to live for anyway._'

Suddenly, there's a light knock at the door and I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the intruder to leave me alone, but most of all, for these tears to stop pouring out from the back of my eyeballs.

"Hermione?" I hear Ginny's concerned voice on the other side of the door.

"Please, Ginny. I want to be alone."

"No one wants to be alone during times like this. Especially me." She opens the door to find me on my knees with my hands palm up toward the window. She closes the door behind her. "Isn't this life just shit?" she continues, getting down on her knees to join me. She has red eyes from exhaustion but no actual trace of a tear.

I'm so numb to everything that I pay no attention to her swearing. Something I would come to find in later months that I don't actually have any issue with at all.

I tilt my chin down, "Yes."

Ginny continues looking forward through the window, into the very early-morning moon. Fog paints interesting pictures past the window and our breath is sticky in our throats. My knees are starting to hurt from the hardwood floor but I don't care.

"I always knew my parents had the best intentions for me what with them not letting me in on things all the time. Like with the Order and being at the Battle. But I never really understood why. Then I realized it's not only because I'm their daughter, I'm also their only daughter. They wanted a girl, I know, especially mum. Merlin's balls, that woman can smother!" Ginny smiles to herself, hoping she can get something out of me as well.

Really, the young woman, my dear friend, has more strength, emotionally and physically, than anyone I'd ever met. This including Harry himself. Perhaps that's why he desperately needs her in his life. She grew up with six older brothers, after all, so of course she would not be as emotional as the next girl; Harry needs a woman who can hold her own emotionally. He's much too busy dealing with his own emotional crises. Which is why he's currently living at Grimmauld Place rather than at the Burrow.

But I just can't help it. Another tear falls down my cheek. "I understand what you're trying to do, Ginny. But your family is like my second family. I love you all and now you only have three brothers. I can't help it."

Then I feel her snake her arm around my waist. "It's alright. I don't know what I'd do if Harry was dead. But that's why we must stick together. We're the Weasleys, after all!"

"I'm no Weasley…" I shake my head and another tear falls down my cheek.

"Well, we all know you would have become one eventually." Ginny concedes. "But by honorary default, you are one and there's nothing you can do about it!"

We exchange a weak smile.

I suddenly realize I haven't asked a damn thing about her and Harry. I straighten up, wipe my eyes on my shirt sleeves, and look at Ginny, "So, how are things with you and-"

"It's taking him some time." Ginny looks at me, frank. "I've been giving him space and I've told him countless times that it's not his fault, for any of it. It still hurts, yes, but eventually we will all move on."

"I really wish I had your strength." I look away from her intense gaze.

"Some would call it heartlessness. I call it 'being the only damn girl in a house full of Weasley boys'."

I chuckle to myself. "I suppose you're right. Still, I'd rather feel like I'm able to carry on."

"But you can and you will. And we'll all get through this together, eh?"

I look at her with sad eyes. I really hope she's right. We sit in silence for another minute when Ginny stands up and says, "Well, c'mon. It's nearly breakfast. Mum'll need company." She offers her hand to me and I take it. I slide my slippers onto my feet and proceed down the stairs with her.

As I cross the threshold of the Burrow's living room space into the kitchen, something obvious is lacking. The very air of the Burrow has become stale, unfeeling, depressed. No longer are there lights to guide your path throughout the magical house, you need the sun's natural light to make sure you don't trip on anything obscure. Two of the hands on the Weasley clock have been removed while Ron's is perpetually under 'Lost'. No one really understands this as the last few seconds I spent with him, he had no heartbeat. He should have been declared dead and when I had to run away from his body (god, I fucking should not have done that!) to prevent my own death, I came back not ten minutes later and he was missing.

"Mum?" Ginny asks, when I walk in behind her.

Mrs. Weasley looks up, almost startled, with red, tired eyes, but immediately wipes away the memory. "Oh, hello dears. I was just about to make everyone breakfast."

Ginny nods her on, knowing that if she made her mother stop doing what she does best, she might break down and cry. We all need something to pre-occupy our minds. But today, 'everyone' means only Ginny, me, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and George, who hasn't been seen in three days. We all suspect he's at his and Fred's joke shop but Mr. Weasley told everyone yesterday that he would be visiting him today to make sure he hasn't done anything stupid.

This made Mrs. Weasley sob even harder.

Ginny and I sit in silence at the kitchen table while we hear the occasional clink and clang from Mrs. Weasley's pots and pans and the frying of eggs and bacon. Smelling the bacon makes my stomach churn in an odd way and I know I'm starving, having not eaten more than one link of breakfast sausage two days ago, but I discover that even though my stomach is telling me to eat, I'm still nowhere near hungry. I excuse myself from the table and Ginny looks after me. I can almost feel the hope in her eyes that I'm okay.

I walk out of the door and run to the pond behind the Burrow. Honestly, I know I have no right to feel this way as compared to the Weasleys, but Merlin's pants, I would have been one of them! I just know it! Ron sacrificed his life for Harry and how do the fates repay him!? Repay me!? Harry deserves love in his life, however. I can not blame him; he's been through the mill more times than anyone can even account for. Still, I can't help but feel that pull of resentment, knowing I'll never again see the love of my life, and that he and Ginny can start over.

My reflection in the water takes me back to simpler times of sadness and aggravation.

"_Well, if you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?" I yelled. My hair was coming out of its bun and my face was screwed up in anger._

"_Oh yeah?" Ron had yelled back. "What's that?"_

"_Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!"_

I remember running up to my dorm after that seeing that Ron had gone speechless. I smile weakly to myself, thinking, '_What a stupid row._'

"Hermione?" I wheel around, my heart almost in my throat.

"Mr. Weasley! Sorry, I-"

He puts his hands up to keep me calm. "It's alright, dear. I came out here to check on you before I Apparate to George's." Mr. Weasley is balding and his glasses are slightly askew from lack of care. He also looks tired and sad but through decades of working in the Ministry and seeing some spectacularly awful things, his demeanor has become a little hardened. Still, he's recently lost three sons and he's out here, checking on his would-be daughter-in-law. I instantly feel guilty but also, somehow, relieved. I've always liked this man and somewhere down the line, he's accepted me as another daughter.

He continues, "I know Ginny's talked to you earlier but I came out here for another reason."

I stay silent, curious as to what he's about to say.

"There's a lot of room in the Burrow now." Mr. Weasley says, quietly but matter-of-factly. "Bill's gone back to Fleur and Gringott's already as he feels Molly can handle things now. And Charlie has to go back to work tomorrow in Romania after his month leave is up. I'm not sure what George's plans are right now and I'll be finding out when I get there, but I'm sure he's going to want to stay above the joke shop for now. So, after all is said and done, it'll just be you and my girls. The point is, Molly and I have discussed it and we would love it if you stayed at the Burrow until you get back on your feet, no matter how long it takes."

I stare at him. The generosity of the Weasleys has always astounded me, especially for how poor they are. Every year since I was fourteen, they have opened their house (and other quarters, can't forget Grimmauld Place in Fifth Year) to me and I just hope I've acted as grateful as I always have been, and now, will be.

"Mr. Weasley, thank you." I say with pleading eyes.

"That's not necessary," he waves off my thanks. "You're family, the Burrow will always be open to you and Harry."

I close my mouth and nod. I'm about to start crying again but I hold back. As Mr. Weasley walks away, I say out loud, "Mr. Weasley?"

"Arthur, Hermione. I think we've crossed this bridge by now." He gives me a warm smile.

I smile weakly, blushing. "Right. Can I tell you something?"

"Anything, dear," he looks at me, curiously, but not unkindly. I feel like he already knows what I'm going to say.

"I loved your son, very much. I wanted…" I close and open my mouth again, wringing my hands together, wondering if I should even be saying this to the father of my 'missing in action' would-be boyfriend. Mr. Weasley gives me a knowing look. Perhaps I _don't_ need to say anything?

"I know, dear. And I could not have picked a better, more intelligent, talented, and frankly, more stubborn, young woman for my son," he chuckles to himself.

I blush and can feel those damn tears welling up in my eyes again. I nod and say, "Thank you, Mr. Weasley, er, Arthur." Saying his first name feels almost foreign on my tongue but it's what he wants.

He nods in my direction and Disapparates.

I ponder the conversation I just had another moment and walk back inside the Burrow. Ginny is pushing her food around with her fork while Mrs. Weasley looks out the window, drinking a cup of tea. My intrusion wakens her from her daydream. She looks at me, and while she puts down her cup of tea, she says, "Hermione, dear, has Arthur already told you that-"

"I can stay for as long as I need?" I look her in the eye, smiling.

She smiles back, knowing that my own smile is confirmation that I have agreed.

"Well, when Charlie's gone, you have your pick of rooms. But I can't imagine you wouldn't want to remain with Ginny for now."

"I think I'll stay in Ginny's room for now, yes." I am not about to tell her that I've been sneaking into Ron's room every night since I got here to attempt sleep in his bed.

"Good, good. Well, I think I'm going to straighten up. This house is in a right state!" She claps her hands together and proceeds to clean everything in the kitchen by hand. I've noticed she hasn't used magic in about a week. But I suppose this is her coping mechanism. I just hope the loss of three of her sons hasn't stunted her magic forever. She is quite the talented witch, as evidenced by the Battle just over a month ago, and I would hate to see it completely diminish. Luckily, I found my own, rather obvious, coping mechanism with great ease: I am pretty sure I have not read as many books as I have in my entire life, in the last two weeks.

Ginny looks up at me after her mum starts cleaning and averts her eye to the living room then back to me. I follow her into the living room. "So we're going to be room mates for a while now, eh?"

"Yeah, are you alright with that?" I ask, hoping that it is.

"Honestly, what kind of question is that?" Ginny asks, laughing.

I laugh along with her. "Yeah, I know. I hope you don't mind I'll probably continue my nightly crusades."

"When have I ever?" Ginny winks at me.

I give her a look.

She continues, "It's going to hurt for a long time, Hermione. Believe me, I've lost three brothers. But I'm doing what I can to make myself feel right again. And I want you to do the same."

"I will, but I can't promise anything."

"No one can promise anything right now. What matters is the effort and how we keep going on."

"You're right." I take a deep breath. I think it's about time I started acting like the end of the world really is not here. "We can do this."

"Alright. Now, let's go to Grimmauld Place."

_**Author's Note:**__** You like? Please help me to improve by leaving a glorious (if not, constructive) review!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**DISCLAIMER: JK Rowling is the great and powerful talent; I'm merely a worshipping peasant.**_

I use Side-Along Apparition with Ginny and we land on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place. Ginny opens the door slowly to a gleaming front hall, a place clearly brought back to its former grandeur.

"Merlin's pants, this place looks better," I whisper.

"You're tellin' me," Ginny whispers back. She calls out, "Harry?"

We hear a slight scuttle from the kitchen. And then we hear a low, hoarse, slurred voice, "I'm in here."

We walk into the kitchen to see Harry in his boxers, completely disheveled, and looking a right state, standing at the cutting board with an almost empty bottle of Firewhiskey. I then notice the other seven bottles strewn about the kitchen, and I can almost sense the other dozen most likely pitched around the house.

Ginny goes up to him, takes the bottle from him, and says with venom in her voice, "And this is how you repay my brothers. By killing yourself with liquor! Their deaths will be in vain!"

Harry swipes at the bottle, but when Ginny smacks him across the face, he looks at her, shocked. He then takes a deep breath and says, "I'm sorry, Ginny. I don't know what else to do."

"You can start by getting sober!" Ginny yells, grabbing the rest of the bottles and pitching them into the rubbish bin. I take notice that Kreacher had been doing a fine job while we were on the run. Other than the bottles and Harry's obvious lack of hygiene, Grimmauld Place looks very well taken care of, indeed.

I wonder out loud, "Have there been any other house-elves coming by to help clean this place up? I know Kreacher is far too old to up-keep this place by himself. I hope you've been paying them fairly, Harry."

Ginny smiles at me, "And there's the Hermione I remember."

I smile at her but continue looking at Harry. "Winky's come by. So've a couple of other house-elves from the Hogwarts kitchens. And don't worry, I've been trying to pay them, they all refuse. Apparently I'm a hero of some sort." He throws up his hands as if he doesn't know what anyone's talking about.

Ginny looks at me, shaking her head. "Harry, you _are_ a bloody hero, but you can't go offing yourself like this. It's not proper to those have died in this battle. And no!" She looks at Harry's face of 'It's all my fault.' She continues with her usual voice full of fire, "Don't you _dare_ think this is all your fault! You know who's bloody fault it is!? Fucking Voldemort's! If he wasn't on such a power-trip, none of this would have happened! Your scar, the bloody Prophecy! You would have led a normal, care-free childhood. But no, the Dark Lord himself had to ruin it all. And now, the hero of the hour thinks it's all his fault. Just fucking STOP!" Ginny's red face indicates that she's had enough of Harry's gloomy nature.

Harry looks at her like he wants to kiss her and throw her out of the house at the same time. He decides to stay put and look Ginny in the eye, wondering what she'll say next.

"You're fucking drunk. I'll treat you like my friend when you're done moping around like an idiot. I know we're all sad over the fact that a lot of people have died, but c'mon! It's been well over a month and we need to start getting our shit together!"

I look at Ginny, honestly wondering, "Ginny, have you grieved, yet?"

She stops in her tracks and turns to look at me, "Have I grieved, yet? I know I come across as a bitch right now, but that's only because I've been taking care of myself for a different process but I just want us to-" she stops short, her breathing becoming shallower. Oh dammit, I've made Ginny cry. Literally. I haven't seen her cry since she was a First Year when the Chamber of Secrets was opened.

I walk up to her while Harry just stares at us both, and give her a hug. She collapses into my arms and sobs greatly. I whisper to her, starting to cry myself, "Do you remember what you told me earlier this morning?"

She takes a deep breath and exhales back, "Yes."

"I want you to remember that, forever and always. We're all friends here, we're all family. Even your parents say so."

I can feel Ginny squeeze me tighter around the shoulders. And then we both feel another pair of very strong arms around us. Harry kisses us both on our foreheads and Ginny says to Harry, "C'mon, love. You need to shower."

Harry looks at her, surprised. "You called me love."

Ginny looks at him, still wiping her eyes, and says, "So I did. That doesn't mean you can't shower right now." She playfully shoves him into the hall.

"You're amazing, you are," he smiles at her.

"I know. Now get your bloody arse in the shower before I have to put you in there myself."

"Is that a promise?" Harry smiles.

"You cheeky bastard!" Ginny smiles widely, chasing him up the stairs.

This entire exchange just makes me feel even worse. But before I cry again, I take a deep breath and look for the piano that I spent an entire afternoon trying to teach Ron just a year ago, even though I knew full well he was staring at me the whole time. I smile fondly to myself.

I walk into the living room and see the grand piano displayed beautifully in front of the stone fireplace. The wooden body looks recently polished and given the state of the rest of the house, I don't doubt that it is. I walk up to it and touch the fall and lift it up to reveal the keyboard. I glide my hand along the surface, wishing beyond anything that I can feel the remnants of Ron's presence there. When I don't, I sit down and look at it, hopelessly. I can feel the tears coming on again and let a few go, and then I look straight ahead and think, _'Let's play.'_

I start playing the song I had tried teaching Ron last year, 'Fur Elise' by Beethoven, and I'm immediately swept into the memory of it. I continue playing another minute when I feel warm hands on my own…

I open my eyes slowly and look to my right. It's Ron, as beautiful as ever, smiling his crooked smile.

"Trying to get me to play this rubbish again?" Ron looks at the keyboard.

I smile, my factual comment paired with snarky wit at the ready, and say, "It's not rubbish, Ronald. For your information, it's a masterpiece by a classical music genius. He was a Muggle, so of course you don't appreciate it."

"And what's that supposed to mean? I appreciate lots of Muggles. How 'bout your parents?" He says, looking me in the eye.

"What _about_ my parents?" I look back at him, daring him on.

"They made you. I appreciate that." Ron smiles that damn crooked smile of his again, taking my hand in his own.

"You've always had a way with words. Usually they were meant to piss me off," I shrug my hands away from his.

"But that's why you love me." He winks at me.

"Loved, Ronald. I can't love what isn't here anymore." I look away from him.

"But I am here, 'Mione. In your heart. Forever and always. I may not be around physically but that doesn't mean that wherever I am, I'm not thinking about you, wondering how you are. I don't want you to be sad, 'Mione. I've never wanted you to be sad," he says, lifting my chin so I'll meet his deep blue gaze.

I start crying intensely, like I've never cried before. "It just isn't fair, Ron! We had one night, one bloody night! And that damn Death Eater took you away from me!"

He shushes me while taking me in his arms. "It's gonna be okay, love. Please believe me. Things are about to change, I can feel it."

"I can't, I can't go on without you. I just can't." I shake uncontrollably.

He then holds me at shoulder length, looks into my eyes so intensely that I do, actually, stop crying for a moment but I continue shaking, and says, "Yes, you can. You are Hermione bloody Granger and nothing can stop you. Other than my brother, I've never known a more ambitious person in my life. You're hell on two feet! You're going to find your parents and my parents have taken you in at the Burrow for as long as you need to be there. You're going to go back to Hogwarts in the fall with my sister to finish your qualifications. You're going to learn the law and use it against those who have wronged house-elves, and you're going to move on!"

I look at him, and say weakly, "How did you know your parents-"

Ron gives me a look, "I'm not really here, remember? I'm your conscience."

I nod. "How much longer do I have in this… with you?" I ask, looking at him hungrily, wishing his hands to touch me in places I only remember him touching.

"Long enough to say I love you and I'll see you next time," Ron kisses my hands and then my lips, oh so tenderly, and as I open my eyes…

I realize my fingers are killing me because I've been playing the piano at a really high octave and a freshly showered Harry and Ginny are staring at me like I've gone mad.

I take a deep breath, look at them both, waiting for them to speak. Harry is the first one, "That was, brilliant. Scary, but brilliant."

"What did I just witness?" Ginny looks at Harry in awe.

"I'm not _that_ good, guys," I tell them standing up from the piano, closing the fall.

"Then you must have been possessed or something because that was, amazing." Harry and Ginny agree.

I contemplate telling them what I've just been through. Ron said he was my acting as my conscience which is really strange as he never seemed to have one himself. Instead, I tell them, "I just really got into it."

"Clearly," says Ginny, amused. "But anyway, Harry and I are going to get dressed and then we're thinking about heading to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch."

"My god, is it already the afternoon?" I ask, checking the watch my mother gave me just two hours before I modified hers and my father's memories. It is one of only two possessions (the other being a locket necklace with a picture of her and my father on one side and me as a ten year old girl on the other) I have of hers and she gave it to me not knowing my fate but having an inkling of what I was about to go through.

"Yeah, and we want to beat the rush," Ginny says.

"Right, well, I'm ready when you are. And actually, I have something very important to talk to you guys about when we get there," I tell them, a new mission to recovery on my mind.

Harry and Ginny exchange a look. I ignore it.

When we get to the Leaky Cauldron and sit at our table and order, I look at them seriously and say, "I'm going to Australia in two days to look for my mum and dad and I want you two to accompany me."

"Absolutely," Ginny says.

"No question about it," Harry agrees. Both of them look at me seriously.

Even though I know they were going to immediately agree with the excursion, I still have bigger ideas in mind. Perhaps they know that I want to go to Australia not just to recover my parents and restore their memories, but also to forgive and forget, and to move the hell on. The emotional side of my brain wants to believe that Ron is still alive somewhere, even if he's been captured by the other side. Knowing that he can come back to me alive is more than I can hope for. The logical side wants this trip to do exactly what I intend for it to do: Help me heal. Because I also know the very real possibility that he will never come back to me. I just hope it doesn't take us very long, the 'know-it-all' part of me is once again hungry for knowledge and education.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: JK Rowling is the great and powerful talent; I'm merely a worshipping peasant.**_

_**Author's Note:**__**I'm still working on chapter four a bit. I want to add another page or two to it, so it might be a few days before this story is updated considering I have classes and work for the next couple of days. But, I have three chapters up for (hopefully) your enjoyment. PLEASE to read and review! Cheers!**_

The next day sees us at the Burrow, having a semi-normal morning, save for George in the living room, looking like he wants to kill someone. Mr. Weasley is pacing the living room, contemplating how to handle the situation. Mrs. Weasley is standing at the doorway, wondering if she should intervene.

"Can someone please explain to me why I'm bloody here?" George says, looking particularly annoyed and hungover.

"Because I saw you yesterday, and I don't want to upset your mother, but you were in such a badly drunken state, I thought you had almost killed yourself!" Mr. Weasley stops in front of his son, nearly yelling. "Your brother did not die for you to act like such a fool!"

"Yeah!? And so what I'm getting pissed occasionally!? He was my twin brother, for Merlin's sake!" At this point, Mrs. Weasley starts crying uncontrollably. Mr. Weasley looks at George as if it's all his fault his mother is so distraught; which, by this moment, it kind of is.

Mr. Weasley puts his hands together and concludes, "You are going to stay here until you sober up," pausing only to see the look on George's face, "I don't care that you're a grown man, you're going to grieve in a healthy way. I'm not losing another son to consumption! And that goes for you, too, Harry!"

Harry's attention is immediately piqued in the kitchen and he wonders how he got dragged into this. Ginny and I both raise our eyebrows at him, agreeing with Mr. Weasley.

Shaking his head, Harry looks at us and asks, "When do you think it'll be appropriate to tell them we'll be gone for a while?"

"Anytime, really. We're going to Australia to find Hermione's parents, I don't think there's a whole lot of risk in that adventure."

"Still, we'll be gone for a while. Your parents have been through enough without having to worry about a daughter and two surrogate kids," I argue."I think we should tell them at dinner tonight. We'll pack and have everything to go and then we'll leave at dawn," Harry says.

"I agree with Harry. You two'll have to stick with me, though. I never went back to Hogwarts for my Apparition test. I wasn't old enough to take it anyway when I left."

Later that night finds us all (me, Ginny, Harry, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and George; Charlie already left earlier in the afternoon, returning to his job) at the dinner table, George looking even worse for wear than he did earlier in the day. Harry looks at him, understanding the feeling, as he's going through the same shitty withdrawal symptoms. Harry wonders if he's even up to an adventure to Australia and then he remembers he defeated one of the most powerful Dark wizards of all time. Surely, withdrawal from alcoholism is nothing…

Ginny speaks up, "Mum, dad. Harry, Hermione, and I have something to tell you."

Mr. Weasley looks at us curiously, Mrs. Weasley's face pales. Already Harry is regretting this but Ginny and I push on.

"As you know, my parents are in Australia-" I start, but am interrupted.

"And you three will be going there sometime soon to recover them, right?" Mr. Weasley asks, a knowing smile on his face.

"Absolutely not, Ginny! You are not of-age, yet!" Mrs. Weasley calls out.

Ginny rolls her eyes while whispering, "Oh, bloody hell," but continues, "Mum, that is complete bollocks! Harry and Hermione need me to help them."

Harry and I both look at Mrs. Weasley, pleading with her with our eyes. Last thing we want is to get on Mrs. Weasley's bad side; even for something as simple as going to Australia to find my parents, but it's true, we do need Ginny. Maybe only as a general companion, but she'll be there to help keep Harry sober. In all honesty, however, if Ron was here, he would be going with us, not Ginny. Or maybe we would wait a year until she became of age and all four of us would go, as two couples. Oh, the dreams I had…

Mr. Weasley looks at his wife and we can all tell he's trying to choose his words wisely, "Molly, I think there's a lot we have to consider here. Ginny may only be sixteen, but she'll be seventeen soon and will be able to leave of her own accord. As well, I think that if Ron was here, Ginny may or may not be going anyway." Mr. Weasley looks at the three of us. "I think it's about time you've found your parents, Hermione. You need them. As much as we love you as one of our own, you can't rely on just us forever."

I look at him, astonished.

Ginny whispers mainly to herself, "Well, that was much easier than I thought it would be."

"I want to come," says George out of nowhere.

We all stare at him, but Ginny is the first speak, "Are you even up for that? You look a right state! Plus, you have the joke shop to attend to."

"What about Harry? He looks like he's been through the mill a few times, too, eh? I can deal with the business later. It's technically been closed for over a month now anyway, I need a little more time to get things settled, according to mum and dad anyway."

"I thought we had an agreement, George?" Mr. Weasley says, very seriously.

"Oh you ol' chap, it'll be good for me to get away from this area for a while. Get some 'down-under fresh air'."

Ginny and Harry snigger and I look on, confused.

"I'm really not sure about you going with them, George…" Mrs. Weasley looks at her son with pleading eyes.

"No, I think he's right, Molly," Mr. Weasley gently lays his hand on his wife's. "He is, after all, a grown man. If he can handle a Battle, he can handle a trip away from home for a while. I'm sure Ginny and Hermione will see to it that he stays sober. Or at least semi-sober."

Ginny smiles and I look at her, seriously. That's another bloody bloke we're going to have to care for. But I want to add something.

"One condition, George."

George looks at me, lopsided ears and all, and says innocently, "Yes, my darling, dear, Granger?"

Harry and Ginny chuckle into their bowls of onion soup.

I blush, but continue on, "You are going to pull your weight with this group. I simply will not tolerate someone who just drinks and doesn't help with navigation or anything."

George places his hand over his heart and with mock hurt, says, "What kind of bloke do you take me for?"

"The kind that could be reliable if you tried hard enough."

This time, George pierces me with an intense blue stare that only Ron was notable of. "Mark my words, I'll be reliable."

Everyone looks at him but all I can think is, '_I don't think I've ever seen George so serious._'

"Then that's settled. The four of you will be going to Australia soon and hopefully we'll see you again before the start of the new school year. Merlin knows Professor McGonagall will want to comply with Dumbledore's wishes and have the school open by September. And I know Hermione will want to finish her qualifications and Ginny will want to do the same. And what about you, Harry? What are your plans come September?"

"I'm going to Hogwarts University, School of Auror Training. Kingsley and I have already had this discussion. He came by Grimmauld Place a few weeks ago."

"Good men, both of you," says Mr. Weasley, looking at Harry with a small smile, before he diggin back into his own onion soup.

The next morning, Harry, Ginny, George, and I have everything packed and ready to Apparate. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are seeing us out and, not unsurprisingly, Mrs. Weasley has sandwiches and soup for us that will last us at least the first week.

"I don't trust the food down there. I remember when your father and I went down there for our five year anniversary, we both got food poisoning from a dragon's liver I'm quite sure was well past its expiration date."

We all cringe slightly.

Mrs. Weasley continues, "With that being said, owl me on the sixth day and I'll send more food your way!"

"Don't worry, mum. We can handle ourselves," says George, placing his hand on his mother's shoulder.

"And you, young man! If I hear anything about you misbehaving!"

"Honestly, mum, it's as if you don't trust me! It's not like I'll send over a Hogwarts toilet or something." George's eyes spark, remembering such a long ago conversation.

Mrs. Weasley looks murderous. George immediately backs down while the rest of us laugh into our sleeves.

"Now remember, it's going to be winter down there. I want you all bundled up the entire time!" Mrs. Weasley points her finger at all of us.

"Honestly, mum, we'll be fine. We'll be seeing you again soon, okay?" Ginny tries to reassure her mum. She hugs her.

"I know, but you're all my babies. Even if only by friendship." Mrs. Weasley looks at Harry and I and gives us both a hug. "You must remember the Burrow is always open to you two. Harry, please take care of yourself, you've been my son for eight years. I simply will not tolerate any misgivings. And you, Hermione, I love you more like a daughter everyday. There's absolutely no reason why you shouldn't come back to this house. Now, tell your parents I say hi when you find them and restore their memories. I want them to come by for dinner sometime soon."

I nearly cry. Besides the conversation I had with Arthur yesterday, I've never felt this loved and accepted by the Weasleys in the seven years that I've known them.

"Count on it," I say with a watery voice.

"Alright, Molly. It's time to let them go for now," says Mr. Weasley, putting his hands on her shoulders. We all walk out into the front yard and take the few paces forward to the point of safe Apparition.

"We'll be seeing you guys soon!" Ginny calls out as Harry takes her hand and Disapparates and then George and I Disapparate separately. As by wizarding law, we can only Apparate every few thousand miles. We travel to Adana, Turkey, then Mumbai, India, then Sabah, Malaysia, sticking around only long enough to collect our whereabouts, then finally…

We find ourselves within five feet of each other in Alexandria, Syndey, New South Wales.

"I think we should find a hostel first," I started. "Rent our rooms, discuss the information I have with me, relax for tonight, and we can start the search tomorrow."

"Sounds like a plan," says George.

Harry and Ginny nod in agreement.

An hour later, we're in two separate rooms, both with two single-size beds.

We sit around the table in mine and Harry's room with Muggle beers and pizza for supper, with the information I have laid out.

"I think we should start in this area," I put my finger on the map at a point just south of the name Alexandria. "I've read there are retail parks around there and dentist offices are usually found in those places. If their business is not in that area, we can start searching in residential areas, always asking for Monica and Wendell Wilkins. Hopefully, their business will be well-known enough to where we can get some real information on their whereabouts in a timely manner. We don't need, nor can we afford, any nonsense."George stretches his arms over his head. "Honestly, Hermione. I think you've got this covered. Why do you need us all here?"

"You invited yourself. As for Harry and I, she's needed us on this mission since before the Battle even began. That was, of course, assuming we all survived," Ginny declares, her chest puffed out in pride. "Isn't that right, Hermione?"

I look at her, amused. "She is right, George. But it's okay that you're with us as well. We all need to be on holiday. The United Kingdom simply isn't big enough for all that mourning and grieving."

George looks at me and smiles. "Thanks, Granger. That truly means a lot."

"How are you holding up, by the way, mate?" Harry asks George, taking a swig of his beer.

"To be expected, I suppose," George says, finishing the rest of his beer. He looks down at his empty bottle. "I just still can't believe he's gone. I can't believe any of them are gone."

I look down at my lap and I see a hand take mine. I look up and see George, his eyes as pained as mine. "And as hard as this shit is right now, we're going to get through this." He looks at Ginny as well, whose hand he is holding with his other.

"Hear, hear!" Harry says, finishing off his beer.

I come to the conclusion that this is going to be an interesting trip. I just wish Ron was here with us…


	4. Chapter 4

_**DISCLAIMER: JK Rowling is the great and powerful talent; I am merely a worshipping peasant.**_

_**Author's Note: This is kind of a filler chapter with small fragments of a Hermione/George romance blooming. There's not a lot of Ginny action in this chapter and Harry is kind of just standing by but I promise the next chapter won't suck as much! However, it'll be a little while before I can update considering I'm going into my finals week soon. Cheers!**_

I wake with a start at the first ring of the alarm on my watch at six o'clock on the dot. The very first thought I have is, '_That couldn't be real…_'

In the dream, I'm walking along the corridor leading to the Fourth Floor of St. Mungo's, the Spell Damage Floor, and step gingerly to a bed that is covered by a closed curtain. I see lots of people crowded around behind it but when I open the curtain, everyone is gone. The only one left is the one occupying the bed.

Ronald.

He's in a coma, his face completely disfigured by what looks like a Stinging Jinx. His body has countless cuts and bruises but all I can think in the dream is, '_I can't believe he's here. He's alive!_'

I swing my legs over the edge of my bed, take a deep breath, and tell myself, "It was just a dream. That is all. Get a hold of yourself, Granger!"

"Talking to yourself is a sign of madness, you know," says George, who is sitting at the table just ten feet from me.

My heart nearly leaps into my throat. My hand to my chest, I exclaim, "George! You gave me a fright!"

He smiles at me. Apparently crooked smiles are genetic because George also possesses it.

I glare at him and ask while putting on a jumper, "How did you get in here?"

George gives me a patronizing look. "Really?"

"Oh shut up. When did you wake up? Did you sleep well?" Changing the subject to avoid further humiliation.

"Eh, well enough, I guess. I woke up 'bout an hour ago. Didn't fall asleep 'til half past two, however. I have a hard time sleeping these days, as you can imagine."

I nod and flick my wand toward the coffee maker, turning it on. I look in the mirror. I look like a slag.

As if he can read my thoughts, George says, looking at me with the most curious expression, "You're beautiful in the morning, you know. Without the done up hair and face."

I look at him confused. "I never do my hair and make up. Or rather, I _rarely_ do my hair and make up."

"Ron was a lucky ol' bastard."

I blush. "Thanks but it's alright. I know I look terrible. Besides last night's pizza, I haven't had anything to eat in days. Haven't slept much, either. But anyway, Harry's still sleeping, George, and I desperately have to shower. Can you come back in an hour or so?"

"Can I talk to you about something first?" George looks at me, his blue eyes remind me so much of Ron…

"Sure," I sit down in the chair opposite him and cross my legs. "What's up?"

"I never liked Percy. Even up 'til the moments before he and Fred died. He was a fucking prat. Made mum cry constantly and a fucking Weasley traitor," George spat.

I don't think I've ever heard George swear like this and I surprise myself by not wincing from it. To be honest, I find that I agree with him, even if Percy and I did share a love of books and rules. Of course, everyone's got a different personality and view on life, but the Weasleys always shared one thing: An undying love for each other, and Percy showed none of it. He was the kind of ambitious that was scary, not brilliant. The kind that made you hate him, not respect him. It's ever so unfortunate that his dying legacy is attempting to make amends with the very twins that were soon after torn apart forever. Perhaps that was his one redeeming quality, but now lives have been changed forever and Percy will never be able to truly redeem himself.

When George is done with his rant, I look at him and say, "I agree, but I think what needs to be done at this moment is forgiveness and to forget all the harsh things Percy has done. He's gone now, George. But he was also your brother and unfortunately, blood can not change that." I take his hand in mine. "I know you miss Fred. I miss him, too. I miss Ron and Tonks and Professor Lupin and all the others. Hell, even Snape apparently turned out to be on our side."

George chuckles to himself. "I suppose you're right. Still, I don't think I'm as funny as I used to be. I wanted to come on this trip to get better, you know?"

"Oh, believe me, I do. And like you said last night, we'll find a way to heal." I squeeze his hand. He squeezes back.

"You're brilliant, 'Mione."

I blink. "What did you just say?"

"Thank you, Hermione?" George looks at me uncertainly."You just called me 'Mione. Only Ron ever did that," I take my hand away from his.

George looks startled. "No, I didn't. Are you alright?"

Harry stirs awake. Yawning, he says, "M-m-morning, Hermione."

"Good morning, Harry. George and I were just having a chat."

"George? What're you talking about? He's in his and Ginny's room."

"What?" I look back to the seat George is sitting in… and he's not there! "He was just there! I was talking to him about Percy!"

"Percy? Who is that?" Harry looks at me, utterly confused.

Prideful in the fact that I can put two and two together in a second's notice, I realize I'm still sleeping. I look back at my bed and there I am, my mouth slightly open, my curls everywhere, lying on my side. The only question is: how do I wake up?

I walk over to my body as Harry evaporates into thin air and I poke my shoulder. Suddenly, I'm ripped back into reality and I wake, again, with a start. This time, it's five forty-three in the morning, Harry is awake in the bath, and there's no George in sight.

My first thought is, '_Am I going mad?_'

I put my slippers on and get out of bed. I walk to the bathroom door and knock lightly.

"You can come in, I'm dressed."

I open the door and Harry is shaving the beard he's been neglecting for over a month.

I smile, crossing my arms, "And who are you trying to impress?"

"No one in particular," he glides the magical razor down his jaw line, creating the most precise, clean shave he's had since the last time he used it.

"You sure it has nothing to do with a certain 'first Weasley girl born in seven generations'?"

"I really don't know what you're talking about." A small smile plays on his lips.

"Well hurry up. We have to get going. I'm going to wake George and Ginny," I say, walking away with conviction.

"This bloody early? Would a dentist office be open at this time?" Harry looks at me, utterly bemused, a spackle of shaving cream hanging in mid-air off his chin.

"No but you know me. I like a head start."

He goes back to his shaving, smiling, and shaking his head.

An hour and a half later finds us at the corner of James St. and McKen Rd.

"I say we start down here," I point to my left.

We all start walking in that direction when Harry speaks, "Monica and Wendell Wilkins, yeah?"

"Yes. Just use a little common sense when asking for them," I say, looking at the map and back at the buildings we're coming up to.

"How do you mean?" Harry asks.

I open my mouth but George beats me to it, "She means you shouldn't say, 'Hey, my friend is looking for her parents, Monica and Wendell. She needs to restore their memories and bring them back to England. She's a witch, you see.'"

We all laugh while George winks at me. I feel an odd flutter in my stomach.

We come up to a series of buildings and start with the obvious, a dentist office on the end of the retail park closest to us. Suddenly, I get this ridiculous nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach and my heart starts pounding like mad. It dawns on me that I haven't seen my parents in over a year. How changed my life has become; would they even recognize me when I reverse the memory charm?

Sensing this, Harry and George stop at my sides, give me their hands, and George says, "Hermione, it's going to be alright. We're all family here and when your parents are restored, they'll be just another couple Weasleys to add to the mix."

I smile weakly, feeling the tears coming on. I take a deep breath and exhale. I can do this and I'm going to do this without tears in my damn eyes! I let go of their hands and walk briskly but nervously up to the dentist office door, turn the knob, and walk in…

The interior seems rather average for a Muggle dentist office, with a few kids reading magazines and bugging their mothers while they try reading their own magazines. I walk up to the receptionist who asks in a kind voice, "G'day. How can I help ya?"

"I'm looking for a Wendell and Monica Wilkins. Do they, by any chance, work here?"

"Not here, I'm afraid. I know they have a practice 'round the corner on Barns Road. It's about a five minute walk down the way," she says as she points to her right. "It's a big glass building with their names on it. Honestly, you can't miss it." Her phone rings. "Sorry Sheila. I hope I gave you 'nough information. 'Scuse me, though. Green Keys Dentistry. This is Pam, how can I help ya?"

I look to the other three. "Well then, I guess we're going to the second most obvious building."

We reach the walkway of the 'big glass building with my parents' names on it' and look up. It's five stories high and just about as wide. I'm amazed we didn't see it first. We walk in and are greeted by a young boy wailing for his mother who is walking as quickly as she can given her state of very late pregnancy. "Quit it! No sweets for you when we get home, child! I've had enough of your attitude today!"

I smile at her, knowing I will be the same way when I have my own kids. If I have my own kids… My mind wanders to that stubborn, gorgeous red head but before the tears start their tirade, I push the thought to the back of my mind and proceed forward. We get on the lift ("Wow, dad was right! These things are fascinating!" says Ginny and George. "It's like apparating but slower!"). When we're at the top level, we walk forward toward a plaque with a few names on it. I see my parents names at the very top and find out their suite number is just two doors away from us.

We walk into that suite and are greeted by another receptionist. "Hello. Can I help you with anything?"

"I'm looking for Monica and Wendell Wilkins."

"They're actually not in today. Can I take a message?"

"No, thank you. I'm actually their daughter. I haven't been around for a while and I was wondering if I could get their home address?"

"I didn't know they had a daughter." The receptionist looks at me suspiciously.

"Well, like I said, I've been away for a while. To prove it, I have a picture of us when I was a younger age." I take out the photo that only Ron has seen and let her examine it."Oh. Well, alright then. Here's the address," she writes down a long number and a street sign. "Here you are then. I wish you luck, mate. They're a fine couple."

I smile and walk away.

When we walk back outside, George says, "Here's to hoping they're actually home."


End file.
